Argument
by Barra Arisa Sanguine
Summary: An age old argument, that even when finished, has no winner. PyroIceman, JohnBobby. Mentions BobbyRogue, JohnRogue. slash


Argument

**Fandom **X-Men

**Rating **PG

**Paring(s) **Surprise

**Summary **An age old argument with no winners, no matter who backs down.

**Prompt **A love triangle is resolved by unconventional means.

-

"No way!"

The yell way loud enough to wake the dead.

"No fucking way in Hell!"

As St. John Allerdyce, better known as the mutant terrorist Pyro, yelled this he came storming down the hallway, presumably from his room to the kitchen.

"Listen, **bitch**, you can't even fuck-" The line went dead and St. John let out a strangled scream. He threw his cell phone at the wall and began tearing through drawers, looking for the spare cash tin.

"What was all that about. Yo?" Toad asked, St. John's cell in his hand as he tried to see who the last call was from only to have the thing ask him for a password. Giving up he went back to eating great globs of peanut butter from the container in his lap.

"Girl shit." St. John grunted finding the spare cash box and opening it.

"She ain't worth it, Yo." Toad had seen the pyromaniac after his bi-monthly trips to see his girlfriend, it wasn't pretty. Bite marks, long scratches, bruises, and even skin rubbed raw would cover the young mutant's skin for weeks afterward.

"I never said she was." St. John answered, counting out a grand before closing the metal lid and throwing it carelessly back into the cabinet with the pots and pans. E turned on his heel and left, without saying goodbye, not that Toad expected one.

"If she ain't worth it, why do you keep going, fool?" Toad asked Pyro's ghost before going back to his peanut butter.

-

"Where are we meeting?" Fire practically spat out of his mouth as he asked the question.

"I'm not telling you." As calm, cool, and collected as ever, The only time she was ever angered was when she found the marks that he left, making her remember that she couldn't.

"Look you little whore," A fireball appeared in his hand as he took a threatening step towards her.

"Ah, ah, ah." She took a step back, wagging a finger at him as if he were a small child to be reprimanded. "Touch me and I'll blow the whistle on your little. . . _meetings_." She threatened with a calculating smirk that he knew all to well. That smirk didn't belong on her face, no yellow eyes or blue scaled skin, but it was just as disturbing.

"Neither of us would ever forgive you if you did." He shot back, though the fire in his hand disappeared as he fought for control of his anger, voice tight.

"Like I care about your forgiveness, you **betrayed** us, remember?" She shot back arms crossing over her chest.

"Whatever." They had, had this argument a million times and would have it a million more. The only reason they shared the same space any longer was to keep their secret.

After a long pause she finally spoke. "He's at the Holiday Inn, room two-oh-five." She bowed her head, giving in.

St. John made it to the motel door before looking back. "Thanks. . ." A long pause. "Anna Marie." 'then he was gone, out the door to the hotel and room two-oh-five.

-

"What took you so long?" Talking only happened after fucking, one of the few rules St. John had. Talking before fucking meant he'd walk out and then they'd both be frustrated more than before they'd met.

"Nothing." St. John lied, just like every other time he had gotten held up. He shifted closer on the bed.

"Rogue again?" Another old argument, one that St. John had no patience for tonight.

"Look," He started to defend himself, his actions, and Rogue, sitting up on the bed, sheet pooling low on his hips, revealing he was wearing nothing underneath.

"Don't." His lover said, standing and getting out of the bed, gathering clothing, intent on leaving. Back turned to St. John, stiff, controlled steps led him to the door. "You'll never leave her."

"Fuck you Bobby! You're the one who'll never leave her!" St. John shot back, voice loud and angry.

"I **can't**." The cyrokinetic pleaded, hand on the doorknob, pausing, trying for the millionth time to work this mess out.

"Well, I did." And with that the general of Magneto's mutant army shoved past Bobby and fled into the hallway. Bobby vaguely noted that St. John must have put his clothing on while he had his back turned.

Twenty calls and just as many voice messages, Bobby realized any pleas would fall on deaf ears, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the hotel room, just in case St. John came back.

The argument had never ended this way before.

No one was supposed to choose.

-

**A/N Yeah, it was supposed to be funny. About Rogue and John arguing over which holidays they'd get Bobby, not sure how it turned into this. Of course writing it at 6:23 in the morning after no sleep might have an effect on my writing. Remember reviews are loved! And I might actually continue this if anyone is interested. **

For those of you who don't want to be totally depressed here's a bit **more.**

-

Back at Magneto's base, Toad was sitting in the living room, watching TV when he heard the melody of Pink's _'Who Knew'_ all of the sudden and felt a vibration in his pocket. It was Pyro's cell phone. He flipped it open only to have it say:

'**Incoming call from NAMECI **

**914-990-3309**

**Please Unlock phone'**

And it continued. Toad counted twenty calls before it stopped. Whoever Nameci was they sure as Hell wanted to get in touch with Pyro. Toad wondered what it was about and if he should try calling Nameci and telling them that he had Pyro's phone. Then he remembered Pyro had gone to see his psycho girlfriend and decided not to. Who knew what she might do to him after what he'd seen on Pyro. He decided he was just going to dog Pyro about his choice in ring tones as soon as the teen came home. Really, _**PINK **_of all singers on his phone. He'd always figured Pyro as a Black Sabbath, Eminem, Slayer's kinda guy.


End file.
